


She's Not There

by opalmatrix



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/M, Magic, Married Couple, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a hot summer day, Flower-in-the-Night has a chilling experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Not There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minutia_R](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/gifts).



> Written for Minutia_R for Purimgifts. Title from the Zombies song, of course. Beta by **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/)**

It was a sunny, sleepy summer afternoon. Although the heat had nothing on even an autumn morning in Zanzib, Flower-in-the-Night found that the soft, warm air of the herb garden was making her eyelids droop as she bent her head over the book. Everything seemed far away and unimportant. There was nothing she needed to do, and no reason why she shouldn't keep reading.

She suddenly wanted to be _doing_ something, not just sitting here on a stone bench nodding off over the fantastical and frivolous novel that Lettie had loaned her. 

"Abdullah!" she called. There was no answer.

Flower-in-the-Night carefully tucked the feather she was using as a bookmark into the novel and placed the book precisely on the bench. Then she went in search of her husband.

Abdullah was in the rose garden. He loved the roses more than almost anything. Their thick, sweet mingled scents were almost pouring off the heavy blossoms that glowed red, pink, yellow, or ivory white above and along the strong, thorny branches. Abdullah was lovingly pruning and deadheading. He did not look up when Flower-of-the-Night called his name.

"Oh!" she said, exasperated. "Most beloved husband of mine, you act though I were not even here!"

And it really was as though she weren't. Abdullah continued to clip off withered blossoms and stray twigs. His handsome, genial face was blissfully distracted. Flower-in-the-Night stamped her foot on the white pebbles of the path into the rose garden. She felt foolish doing so: she was not a stamping kind of person. She heard the sound of her slipper thumping onto the pebbles, and the tiny sounds of the pebbles rolling and shifting beneath it. But Abdullah did not seem to hear a thing.

This was really vexing, and perhaps even a little frightening. Flower-in-the-Night thought for a moment. Then she strode down the path, making no attempt to be quiet because she was certain it wouldn't make any difference. And it didn't. Abdullah continued with his careful pruning. Flower-in-the-Night firmly grabbed the wrist of the hand with which he held the secateurs and tried to pull it away from the current shrub.

Now at last he stopped gardening. He looked at his hand fearfully. "Alas, what is this? It must be the heat."

But he sounded unconvinced. This was not hot weather for either of them. Flower-in-the-Night felt terribly guilty for frightening him this way. Why couldn't he see her or hear her?

She should go back to the house and see whether the maid or the cook would notice her.

If they didn't, that would be completely horrifying.

No, thought Flower-in-the-Night. There must be something else she could do. Could she write a note? Sophie or Howl would certainly be able to help her, if this were magic of some sort. So foolish to panic, she thought. They knew some of the most powerful magicians in world, after all! The pebbles had moved when she stamped. She could write a message in the dirt of the yard, if nothing else.

"Flower-in-the-Night?"

Abdullah was looking around. He seemed to know she was there. How?

"Abdullah!" she shouted, as loudly as she could. He cocked his head, as though listening to something very far away. He was looking right at her, his eyes wide open, and it was clear that he could not see her.

Logically, he should see her. Magic had its own logic, however.

"Close your eyes!" she screamed, loudly enough that her throat hurt.

Abdullah started and then looked around wildly. Then he sighed. "I suppose it cannot hurt to close my eyes," he said. "After all, I feel very sleepy already. Perhaps I am dreaming."

At last, he did as she ordered. Suddenly his back straightened, and he turned his face toward her. She could see that he was forcing himself to keep his eyes shut, and he reached right for her. "Flower-in-the-Night," he said, and then he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her.

The strong smell of the roses was mixed with the familiar smell of Abdullah, and Flower-in-the-Night closed her eyes and kissed him back.

When they broke the kiss, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder, and he put his arms around her. It should have been hot and uncomfortable, but it wasn't. 

"Can I open my eyes now, oh most mysterious of women?"

"Can you hear me?" she asked, very quietly.

"Yes, of course I can, my own beloved rose!"

"Then open your eyes," she said, her heart in her throat.

There was a small silence. "There you are," he said, softly. "What was that all about?"

She lifted her head and straightened her back to look at him. He was looking back at her. Everything was as it should be, and for the moment, that was more than enough. "I do not know," she said. "I was sleepy and bored of reading, so I came to find you. And you could not see me, and you could barely hear me."

"But I could smell your perfume, my flower that blooms both day and night."

"What? How, with all these roses about?"

"Even so, dearest."

"We must ask Sophie and Howl what all this means. It was as though I felt I were not all there, and suddenly I wasn't."

"You must have been quite frightened, beloved."

"I was," she admitted. "But do you know, I feel quite awake now."

"In truth, my only love, I do as well."

"Are you finished with the roses?"

"I could be, if there was something else you wished me to do, sweetest."

She smiled. "I'm sure I will think of something, o most perceptive of husbands."

_Image of Flower-in-the-Night from the cover art by David Wyatt, on the HarperCollins 2000 paperback edition of Castle in the Air by Diana Wynne Jones_

 

Prompts: the smell of her perfume * power of flight or the power of invisibility .


End file.
